The Days Away
by WyseInk
Summary: Ed and Winry enjoy a break from their usual routine. A brief drabble written for Father's Day.


Winry wasn't surprised by how quickly the kids had taken to the beach. They'd been running around the sandy slopes and splashing in the pool and ocean all day, only taking breaks to bury their dad in the sand and eat sandwiches and ice cream at the little cafe by the pier. Ed had been a good sport about the former, even if Winry had taken advantage of it when the kids had left him there and turned their attention to the starfish another sibling pair had caught and were showing off to them. Winry dusted what sand hadn't washed off her husband's back as he winced-the sunburn he'd probably sustained beforehand, she thought, only realizing he'd had it after he'd been sitting in the sand for a while.

"You big baby," she said, smacking her hand against him and smirking as he yelped. "You should've put on sunblock like I told you."

Whatever Ed said next he grumbled under his breath, and her smirk grew wider. The trip had been his idea-something she was fairly sure he'd decided on on a whim but had executed surprisingly well despite it. They'd taken a train to the coast and borrowed a car to take the rest of the way, winding through quaint small towns lush fields. The beach itself, Winry thought, was beautiful: powder-white sands and clear blue water with stunning sunsets. There were also plenty of opportunities to keep Alice and Eli entertained-sandcastle building classes, seashell hunting, swim lessons, and even the fact that they had their own adjoining room at the hotel-allowing her and Ed to make good use of the poolside bar and other local attractions.

Winry smirked, thinking of her husband's insistence the night before on how entirely sober he'd been. They'd both stumbled along the sand-dusted walk of the beach while the waves rolled against the shore, both trying to help support the other's weight and failing on occasion as they'd veered from the walk once or twice. Even in what light the moon and stars had put off she hadn't missed the look in his eyes when they'd taken a tumble into the sand: mischief, the hold the liquor still had on them both, and the fact that he was completely and entirely at ease. They'd made good use of the walls and locked door between the two rooms they'd rented later that night, and even now Winry still felt a slight prickle of heat rising to her cheeks unrelated to the sun that beat down on them both.

"Now what'd they get into?" Ed muttered, nodding toward where the kids all played. Winry peeked around his shoulder, smiling as Alice held up what appeared to be a glass bottle. Ed gave her a thumbs-up, and their daughter turned, eagerly showing her new treasure off to Eli and the other sibling duo.

"Message in a bottle, maybe?"

"Better than the alternative," he said with a smirk. They made their way back to the lounge chairs and umbrella they'd set up and had a seat. "Remember when we found Granny's stash?"

"The one in the pantry she'd told you a million times not to break into?"

"You were there, too."

"Telling you not to break into Granny's pantry," Winry said, and Ed's eyes flickered to her, a look reminiscent of the one he'd given her the night before crossing his face again. "You and Al were always up to something. Mostly you."

He chuckled at that, turning his attention back to the sea and the kids. Winry did the same, taking in the forms of the kids that played before them. Sometimes, it struck her how quickly they were growing up: already Eli was ten, and Alice a precocious eight. Eli's golden hair bounced against his shoulders as he ran into the water and back out again. He hadn't let her cut it before their trip, Winry recalled, and Ed had encouraged him, clearly proud of the fact that their son was already taking after his tastes. It seemed that Alice had in her own way done the same, taking after a preference for braids that Winry thought she didn't yet know her father had worn in his younger years. Hers were braided neatly into two perfect pigtails, something Ed had done for her earlier that morning.

That, Winry thought, had been a moment worth watching in itself.

Instinctively, she reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze. "This was a good idea, Ed."

"Yeah, well." He paused, and she didn't even need to look at him to know that he blushed. "I thought it'd be good to get away for awhile. For all of us." He squeezed her hand back, and Winry knew from the way his thumb stroked her hand as they rested there what he meant. It was an experience neither of them had had as kids, and it was one they were both glad they were able to provide. Memories, Winry thought, were priceless. So many of their own were full of loss, hardship, and tragedy. In comparison, she and Ed had talked long ago about how they wanted Eli's and Alice's to be different. They would be kids, and while she and Ed certainly hadn't hesitated to start teaching them valuable skills, they also would get to just _be_, soaking up the wonders of the world and letting their curiosity towards it thrive.

These moments were among those she had no doubt would fall under the good, and it would stay with them like the long afternoons she, Ed, and Al had spent outside, waiting for Granny to call them in once a stew or pie was ready. In a couple of hours, Winry would call her own children in, and she and Ed would take them to dinner. For now, they could take it all in.

For now, they could just breathe.


End file.
